Russian Roulette
by TheeMizKitty
Summary: Stayne and Hatter drabbles! Slash


Russian Roulette

Stayne/Hatter song drabbles.

Ultimate Hatter/Stayne song—Mad About You by Hooverphonic

Disclaimer: I don't own Alice in Wonderland.

Warning: Slash mentioned, be wary and/or/preferrably leave if you don't like!

/

I Get It- Chevelle

He'd known from the start that nothing good would ever come from what they were doing. But then, since when did the Knave of Hearts ever care about anything good?

He got what he wanted and, as he gazed into eyes that couldn't decide on a color—_green or gold green and gold—_and could never quite see him, he knew that this was it. A madman at his mercy, too lost to his own mind to fight the violence, the sheer hostility the knave would project at him and on him. Soft flesh to sink into, pale skin to make red with fingernail trails and bite marks. Fresh, untouched, and completely unhinged. Absolutely lovely to a man with only one eye.

Too mad to fight back, too mad to reason as he tears him apart, a little at a time, and turns orange hair crimson and makes already red lips a darker shade of ruby. How can he protest? How can he fight him?

The answer is, that he can't, he never can because the knave is always ahead of him, holding him down with a dark gaze and bloody hands. "I need you," he would whisper in his ear, breathing so harshly through the cracks of insane laughter. "I need you to understand that I can break you and I can make you. I am your sanity now."

In these bloody days, the hatter only laughs until it hurts and wishes that he had half the mind to understand that kisses do not involve knives and pain and touches do not break the skin. If this is sanity, he finds it to be worse than insanity.

/

The Accident—Phillip Glass

When the madman dreams at night, it is always of mad dreams. Could it be any differently?

Everything is always changing, colors shapes and people into something else. Nothing, in a mad dream, is ever constant.

Nothing that is, but him.

He is always there drifting with the colors, a spot of black in the rainbow, a melting heart among all the burning ones. Sometimes he can touch him. Just a fleeting caress to black stringy hair before everything breaks apart, fractured, and that raven colored hair becomes a writing desk that he is sitting at, under a clock racing backwards.

In his dreams as soon as he breaks apart, he can never put him back together again. He can always touch him but he cannot reach him. He can always see him but he cannot view him. He can always know he's there and feel completely alone. Nothing makes sense for him, ever, but when he's around everything seems that much worse, a cacophony of lights, sounds, thoughts and feelings no dreams should be able to contain. No dreams—

It is only when he turns around and sees him standing there that he understands that he was never really dreaming at all.

/

Flat of the Blade—Massive Attack

When everything is done and the monster's blood is drying on the ground, he finds himself in a state of shock. This is everything that he'd always wanted and everything that he didn't think was possible. He risks a glance over to where she stood, the champion, glittering in her armor in the dim light of Underland with the blood covered sword still resting in her hand. Unexpectedly he feels like he cannot breathe.

Is it really over…?

He watches as the White Queen berates the Red Queen, watches the cat appear in all his grinning brilliance to place the crown back on the true queen's head. It's over, it's really over—

But not for him. He knows that there will be consequences; it is only fair. He had told himself that he was willing to accept them…but that was before he started to notice the hatter with the ever-changing eyes. Without thinking his eye seeks him out, that madman whose madness, so suddenly, had stolen his heart and infected it so completely.

He finds him standing near the Champion Alice, his familiar wayward grin on his face and his unfocused eyes a merry, excited forest green. Inside his chest, the knave feels his dark heart start to sink. Had he really expected any differently? He is the enemy to the kingdom, and the mad hatter knows this. Despite the moments that they had shared in the Red Castle of Hearts, he is still to be considered the enemy. How could he have even started to believe that it would be different?

The black looks that he is given mean little to him as he approaches the White Queen for what he knows will be coming. He is hoping for death; instead he finds himself shackled to his mistake, the woman he hates more than anything. She is the cause of all of this. She is the cause of Tarrant refusing to look at him, and the reason that he is still alive. He should have been decapitated by now; but maybe if he decapitated her things would be alright?

The pain in his arm is instantaneous; he had not even had time to draw his sword before there is a dagger in his flesh, and when he looks up he finds green eyes staring back. He should have known; he should have seen it coming. He leaves Tarrant's dagger in his arm, a reminder of the pain of his mistakes and of Tarrant himself. This is all he will ever have left of him.

Then he is dragged away, silent and mute and dead inside from Tarrant and his bright green eyes. For a second, as they locked eyes one final time, he could have sworn that they flashed gold. But then that might have just been a trick of his broken eye as the other fills with tears.

/

Fade—Staind

The word betrayed has always seemed to haunt Stayne. He has betrayed everyone he has ever been close to throughout the years for the gift of self preservation. He never really has had any qualms about throwing someone under the proverbial bandersnatch to save his own skin, and never thought that he ever would.

Until Tarrant Hightopp, in his perfect insanity and perpetually grinning face came along and decided to change that.

Stayne never would have thought that one day, he would be the hero. One day he would save someone from the cruel death that awaited them and whisked them away to safety, never mind the consequences that would reflect on him.

He is not a hero, and he never will be, but that still doesn't stop Tarrant, green eyes gleaming like emeralds, to tell him that he is as he disappears into the woods of Wonderland, lost from Stayne and yet closer than he ever had been before.

/

Aha—Imogen Heap

Tarrant did not know what made him crazy, or why he is even crazy. Some days, it does not even seem like he is crazy at all. At least, in his mind he's not.

Like today when Stayne asks him what he is doing in that sneering voice of his, and he looks down at his hands. He is clutching a teacup, just like he should, with sugars and honeys all swirling within it. It is sweet and delicious and it is a lovely day out and he has all the reason in the world to smile and greet his enemy and lover. He is doing nothing crazy, and he tells Stayne so. But then Stayne's eye grows dark. In an instant the teacup is shattered somewhere on the ground and he is pinned beneath the dark form of Stayne, at his mercy as always.

Some days, Tarrant can't help but wonder, staring up into the gleaming eyes of his poisonous lover, if he is not the only crazy one in this relationship.

/


End file.
